Different
by nikkiRA
Summary: Oneshot, FredHermione/ That happy feeling in her heart when he kisses her lets her know that maybe he’s more important than she had originally thought.


She doesn't know how it happened, but all of a sudden those meaningful glances turned into meaningful touches turned into meaningful kisses. She doesn't know just why she finds him so fascinating, but each smile he shoots her makes her heart flip and every time he touches her or kisses her she wants to stay with him forever.

No one knows, except George, because he can't keep a secret from his twin and she fully respects that, but other than him no one else knows about stolen kisses in his bedroom at night or that those small brushes of his hand on various parts of her body are much more than accidental.

They are lying on his bed one night, kissing and whispering and doing all those things she figured she was exempt from, all those things she had thought she would never experience because she was too busy helping to save the world. But the attention he gives her lets her know that she's a woman, and that happy feeling in her heart (and lower) when he kisses her lets her know that maybe he's more important than she had originally thought.

He's stroking her cheek and smiles down at her, and she grins up at him and arches her face up for another kiss.

Much to her chagrin, he doesn't kiss her again. She looks at him in worry. He sighs and buries his face in her hair.

"I've been thinking…"

"Never a good sign," she jokes, but it does little to lighten the suddenly dark mood.

"About Ron."

Her face is confused. "What about Ron?"

His face is solemn. "He fancies you."

"Oh." Before, if anyone had told her Ron fancied her, she would have jumped for joy. But now she finds the news upsetting.

"More then fancies you, I'd wager. I'd say he loves you."

The look she gives him is fierce. "I love _you."_

He looks startled, but then his features soften and he presses his lips against her forehead. "I love you, too. But that doesn't erase the fact that my brother does, too."

"Fred, Ron has had ages to act on whatever feelings he may or may not have. He didn't. Don't worry- Ron will find someone. Everything will work out."

He smiles. "I guess I can trust you. After all, you know everything."

Her cries of protest are cut off by his lips, and any other thoughts are immediately forgotten.

---

He suddenly pulls her away from the crowd, pulls her into a tapestry that opens up into a passageway. She shouldn't be surprised- he had always known where are the hidden passageways were. She can remember the days when she had scolded him for it- now she's grateful, as he kisses her long and hard and then buries his head in her bushy hair.

"I've been so worried about you," he says breathlessly, holding her tightly to his body. The sounds around them all fade away and it's as if they're alone in his bedroom again, where nothing bad could get them.

"Are you okay?" She asks him. He trails kisses all over her face.

"Me? Of course I'm okay."

Their hands wander, making sure for themselves that the other was alright. Finally, they have to pull away, go back before someone misses them.

"Listen to me," he says firmly, taking her face in his hands. "Be safe. Don't do anything reckless. Don't try to be a hero. Protect yourself."

"I'll be okay. But _you-_ you had better not do anything stupid."

He kisses her (for the last time). "You had better come back to me."

She smiles (for the last time in a long time). "You better be there."

---

She searches, frantically, for a familiar face. She finally catches a glimpse of red- there's a ring of Weasley's, but she can't see him. Maybe he's somewhere else.

(Please God, let him be somewhere else.)

She isn't even aware she's running until she arrives and she's out of breath. She bursts in through Percy and Ron, and Molly is crying but she doesn't notice, what are they all staring at? she doesn't know, until she looks down down down

it's him, it can't be him because he can't be dead. he can't be dead because he can't die. he can't die because she needs him. she needs him, she needs him, _i need you, i need you, goddammit i need you_

she isn't even fully aware she's falling until she's on the ground, kneeling in front of him. there are no tears falling from her face- she is far past the point of crying. hands fall on her shoulders but she knows they aren't to comfort her- they're for support. someone is using her to hold themselves up, but she can't bring herself to care about anybody's pain but hers, and god her pain is swallowing her whole

the war is over, and that's a good thing, because there's no way she could fight. not now. there's a hand squeezing her heart and she's sorry that there's no more curses flying around that she could throw herself in front of

he'sdeadhe'sdeadhe'sdeaddeaddead.

---

She looks beautiful. Her hair is straightened- Ginny's idea, not hers. Her eyes are made up- Fleur's idea. Her dress is plain, yet elegant- her idea, this time. She doesn't want to be too extravagant. Her eyes stare at herself in the mirror and she doesn't recognize the person staring back.

She's different.

When she was little, she had dreamed of her wedding day. What little girl hadn't? She had pictured her parents beaming at her- check. The beautiful dress- check. The crowd, waiting for her- check. The groom, who she was madly in love with-

Someone knocks on the door. She calls for them to come in.

It's him. It's him.

(No, not him. Never him.)

"Hi George."

He nods at her. She tries not to look him full in the face. He doesn't mind. He does the same.

"You look beautiful."

She nods her thanks. Her throat closes up.

The man who will soon be her brother-in-law stares at her reflection in the mirror. Like her, he doesn't seem to recognize who he sees.

She tries to fight back tears. Fleur will kill her if she messes up her makeup.

"Do you think badly of me, George?"

His face is expressionless. He walks over to her, stares at their reflection in the mirror.

They both know this is what her wedding day should look like.

Then he buries his head in her shoulder, wraps his arms around her.

"Do you love him?"

She looks out the window. Thinks about the life stretching out in front of her. Her life with Ron.

"Yes."

It isn't a lie. She loves him. She feels safe in his arms at night. It feels right when she kisses him. She can picture spending her life with him. Can imagine having his children.

"Do you love him as much?"

She wishes she could say yes. Wishes she could truthfully say that Ron filled that hole. Wishes he could have taken his brothers place.

"No."

She can't tell if it's her that's shaking, or George.

"But you love him?"

She nods.

He finally lifts his head. "I don't think badly of you, Hermione."

She stares at her reflection. Thinks of everything she'll never be able to give Ron, because someone else already took it.

"I wish I could say the same."


End file.
